Classic Poem

MRS. D. M. JORDAN, APRIL 29, 1895

ALL sudden she hath ceased to sing,
Hushed in eternal slumbering,
And we make moan that she is dead. —
Nay; peace! be comforted.

Between her singing and her tears
She pauses, listening — and she hears
The Song we can not hear. — And thus
She mutely pities us.

Could she speak out, we doubt not she
Would turn to us full tenderly,
And in the old melodious voice
Say: " Weep not, but rejoice. "

Ay, musical as waters run
In woodland rills through shade and sun,
The sweet voice would flow on and say, —
" Be glad with me to-day. —

" Your Earth was very dear and fair
To me — the groves and grasses there;
The bursting buds and blossoms — O
I always loved them so! —

" The very dews within them seemed
Reflected by mine eyes and gleamed
Adown my cheeks in what you knew
As " tears," and not as dew.

" Your birds, too, in the orchard-boughs —
I could not hear them from the house,
But I must leave my work and stray
Out in the open day

" And the illimitable range
Of their vast freedom — always strange
And new to me — It pierced my heart
With sweetness as a dart! —

" The singing! singing! singing! — All
The trees bloomed blossoms musical
That chirped and trilled in colors till
My whole soul seemed to fill

" To overflow with music, so
That I have found me kneeling low
Midst the lush grass, with murmurous words
Thanking the flowers and birds.

" So with the ones to me most dear —
I loved them, as I love them Here:
Bear with my memory, therefore,
As when in days of yore,

" O friends of mine, ye praised the note
Of some song, quavering from my throat
Out of the overstress of love
And all the pain thereof.

" And ye, too, do I love with this
Same love — and Heaven knows all it is, —
The birds' song in it — bud and bloom —
The turf, but not the tomb. "

Between her singing and her tears
She pauses, listening — and she hears
The Song we can not hear. — And thus
She mutely pities us.